I took a moment to stop at the cemetery of my friend, a fellow girl scout mom. I wondered between the snow melting and the rain now pausing, in 4 days time, was the plot OK???… Well, of course it was fine, but I rearranged the wind-fallen flower piles anyway and made them look nicer. I thought at the very least the children who might visit their mom’s grave may have a better view, even if it’s the worst view. And even if they don’t come for a while, others will see devotion, just like I saw other places of graves of beloved mothers with dozens of angel statues, artwork,  holiday decoration and flags, even Christmas trees. Devotion. So, perhaps it’s just the mom in me to “mom the situation”, clean up what is not my mess, and appreciate simply that I was putting the work in for my friend’s sake, and for mine too I will confess. I just liked it better. I just humanly needed to feel that earthly feel of ‘doing something’, when I knew already that God had already done everything, the Heavenly EVERYTHING. 

“Beloved Mother” – the ribbon loose but the sentiment true. I anchored it with rocks. This mother was beloved as a mother by her children – and she was beloved that she mothered those children, admired and beloved by those she knew. She maybe sometimes put the smother of mother on thick – but that’s who she was – SO thick in mothering – to all she knew. Me too. I have clothes and food still from last year. She would mom me with snacks for our car trips. She mom-med thicker than the peanut butter she would bring. So thick is what many mothers do, to help us be covered in mothering long after they are gone. 

Mud – I carried out the work then later saw the mud – the smother of mothering now the smother of mudddddd-ering … mud… felt good (even looked good I thought for a photo,  the contrast of my pink fuzzy crocs as if happily dipped in mud). – Well… 

We have to remember, mud will wash off, don’t be afraid of mud. Life is muddy, don’t be afraid of life. Carry on the work and wash off the mud later – simply switch shoes and keep marching. Mud makes the moms, it’s very beautiful to mom.

Keep mom-ing Moms. Keep dad-ing Dads. Keep traipsing through mud to mudder through life. Will the kids see it? The mom-ing by moms? Does that matter? Maybe, but just know it’s God’s way to make headway into life’s fray. “My people shall be satisfied with My goodness, says the Lord.” Jeremiah 30:14

Keep mom-ing moms. Mud and all.

Amen